“Thank you,” Tamra said.
“Except for that hesitation. You know, I could work with her on that.”
“She’s my rider. Poach elsewhere.” She swung herself up onto the bench and flashed her smile at him. He was scowling at her, as if he were deeply insulted. She noticed, though, that he didn’t deny it.
“My riders raced well too!”
“Congratulations.” She rode past him, pulling the cart with her racer and rider behind her. A few of the other students and trainers waved at her, acknowledging her once again, the way they used to before last year’s disaster. Sitting up straighter, she commanded the rhino-croc to trot faster, prouder.
By the entrance to the campsite, she saw the wounded being patched up by the track doctors. She met the eyes of her former student Fetran, who had failed to finish and was having his shoulder bandaged. He looked miserable.
Demonstrating her professionalism, she did not say anything snide. But she gloated privately as they headed home.
Seeing no need to rush, Tamra enjoyed the journey. At the peak of the heat, they rested at a watering hole, and continued on in the pink dusk. They reached the stable just as the first stars were scattered across the sky.
She loaded the rhino-croc into his stall while Raia maneuvered the black lion out of the cage. Together, they secured the locks and double-checked all the chains. “Can I give him extra feed?” Raia asked.
“Absolutely. He earned it.” Tamra was already thinking about what kind of pastry treat she could buy for Raia and Shalla tonight. She was looking forward to telling Shalla all about the race and hearing about whatever she’d learned in her studies during their absence. “I’ll stow the cart.”
Leaving Raia in the stable, Tamra hauled the cart back to the shed. She noted that the other trainers and their students had already returned and left—they must have rushed back from the racetrack after their own mix of victories and disappointments. But Tamra didn’t regret the slow return. All of them needed the reprieve. Already she was planning out the next training sequence—they’d have a week before the next race to squeeze in as much training as possible. Next race, now that Raia had a taste for it, they were going to win first.
She heard a noise behind her. “That was quick. Did you clean the saddle?”
“I apologize for the intrusion,” a man said.
Tamra spun around, and then hissed as pain spasmed up her leg. In the doorway to the shed, a stranger in plain gray robes blocked the light from the torches outside. He was bald with a beard, and his eyes were a soft gray. He reminded her, oddly, of a just-washed blanket. Everything about him was crisp and soft at the same time, and he was a calming kind of good-looking. “Can I help you?”
He inclined his head in a slight bow. “Perhaps. I am Augur Yorbel.” Reaching into his robes, he drew out a pendant. It glittered in the torchlight. “Are you Trainer Tamra Verlas?”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Shalla! What’s happened? Is she all right?”
He looked perplexed.
“My daughter! That’s why you’re here—” She broke off, studying him. “That’s not why you’re here? You’re not one of my daughter’s teachers from the Peron temple?”
“I am not,” he said apologetically. “I am—”
She heard shouting from outside, in the direction of the stables. It sounded like an argument, which was not a great idea around the kehoks—it riled them up, and she needed the black lion to rest. Whatever this augur wanted, so long as it wasn’t about Shalla, he’d have to wait. Stalking past him, she headed outside. “Excuse me.”
He trailed after her.
She saw two strangers in front of the stable, while Raia cowered in the doorway. The pair of strangers, a man and a woman, were shouting at Raia.
“Are they with you?” she asked the augur.
“No, they are not. In fact, they—”
Tamra picked up her pace, ignoring the twinge in her leg. She shoved past the couple to stand in front of her rider, facing her and blocking them. Raia’s cheeks were damp, and her eyes were darting from right to left as if she were a cornered creature. Tamra laid her hands on both of Raia’s shoulders, forcing her to look at her rather than at the man and woman. “Did you finish cleaning the saddle?”
Mutely, she shook her head.
“You need to finish your tasks before you can socialize.” She turned Raia one hundred eighty degrees and gave her a slight shove into the stable. She then pivoted to face the strangers with her hands on her hips. “You’re trespassing on the North Bank Peron Training Grounds. If you’d care to come back during training hours, someone would be happy to give you a tour of the facility and answer all your questions.”
It didn’t take much intuition to know that these were the parents Raia had been running from. The man and the woman looked vaguely like her, except they were much more pissed off.
“We are not here for a tour,” Raia’s father snapped. “We are here to speak with our daughter. Privately.” He took a step forward that would have been intimidating if Tamra hadn’t spent the bulk of her life around monsters who exemplified the word.
She raked him up and down with her eyes. “She isn’t your daughter here. She’s my rider.” From the looks of him, she judged he’d never thrown a punch at anyone he thought would fight back. Tamra had done plenty of fighting in her time, though she hadn’t gotten herself into that kind of situation in a decade or so. Tamra’s back ached at the thought of this turning into a brawl. She wished Raia’s parents had waited to descend until morning, when she’d be fresher. But there was no way she would let this man get the drop on her, tired or not. “Now that the race season has begun, I need her fully focused on her training and race preparation, not distracted by personal issues.”
“You’re talking nonsense,” Raia’s father sputtered. “Raia is no racer!”
“The kehoks are called ‘racers,’ and the jockeys are called ‘riders,’” Tamra corrected primly. “Raia is a talented rider who shows enormous potential. She has successfully completed her first race and must prepare for her second.”
Raia’s father’s eyes bulged, and her mother’s mouth flopped open. “Our Raia?” she squeaked. “You must be mistaken. Our Raia would never associate with such . . . activities.” She said the word as if Raia were rolling around naked in manure.
“No offense taken.”
They gaped at her. Tamra had encountered people with this attitude before, who thought riders and trainers were sullied by their association with kehoks. Those same people would pay fistfuls of coins for the shaded seats in the stands during the races and drop large sums in bets on their favorite beasts. She didn’t bother to defend the profession. Hypocrites like these two would never understand. “‘Your’ Raia has made her choice. Feel free to cheer for her from the stands.”
Crossing her arms, she hoped that Raia hadn’t lied about her age. If she were younger than sixteen, she wouldn’t have the right to race without her family’s permission.
“See here,” her father said. “We are her family! We have the right to—”
“The right to benefit from her fame and fortune?” Tamra finished for him.
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t, by law,” Tamra said. “All her winnings are hers, since she is of age. However, she has told me she wishes to come to an arrangement with you, to compensate you for certain costs you may have incurred. . . . Bah, screw that. She owes you nothing. You’re her parents. You’re supposed to support her, not profit off her.” She put her hands on her hips. “Sorry excuse for parents, blaming her for what she couldn’t control, and then selling her off.”
“We would never!” Raia’s mother cried, her hand over her heart as if Tamra’s words had shocked her into palpitations. “We only ever thought of her happiness!”
Tamra resisted rolling her eyes. As earnest as they seemed, she didn’t buy it. She’d seen the look in Raia’s eyes when she talked about her parents and fiancé. �
��Really? And you didn’t come here to pressure her into a marriage she doesn’t want?”
“We know what’s best for her!” Raia’s father blustered.
“That’s all we ever wanted,” Raia’s mother said, right on the heels of her father, “what’s best for her. We want her to be happy, with her future secured.”
Now Tamra did roll her eyes. “And did you ever ask her what she wanted?”
“She’s a child!” Raia’s father said. “She doesn’t understand the world. She refuses to see things the way they are!”
Tamra snorted. “How much?”
Both parents stared at her.
“How much will she have to give you for you to leave her alone?” Tamra spoke slowly and clearly, so there was no chance they’d misunderstand. If Raia wanted to buy her freedom, then Tamra would do her best to see that it didn’t cost her too dearly—and that she never had to talk to these people again if she didn’t want to.
Raia’s father stepped toward her. “This is absurd—”
Tamra held up one hand. “Diplomacy is not my strong suit. Do you know what is?” She shifted her focus to the kehoks inside the stable. Scream, she silently ordered them.
From within the stable, screams rose to claw the darkening sky.
Silence.
The screams cut off.
“Your daughter ran away from you because you’re monsters,” Tamra informed them. “And came here. You can understand, then, how she must feel about you. So how about we sit down and settle this? I’ll be the one looking out for Raia’s best interests, and you two can pretend you are.”
Raia’s parents gawked at her.
She smiled at them, accentuating her scar. “Let’s talk.”
Inside her racer’s stall, Raia whispered to the black lion, “I’m a coward.”
He regarded her with his golden eyes, and she imagined he was telling her she wasn’t. You couldn’t be a coward and ride a kehok.
“But I am,” Raia insisted. “I’m letting Trainer Verlas fight my fight. I should be out there, standing up for myself, not in here with you.”
He shuffled toward her, then hit the shackles and let out a whimper.
“Oh, did I chain you too tight?” Raia inched toward him. “Stay calm while I fix it. Behave.” She focused on him and tried to ignore the voices of her parents and Trainer Verlas beyond the door to the stable.
He lay down like a housecat and stretched his paws forward so she could reach the clamp. She loosened it, giving him several more inches of slack in his chains.
“Better?” she asked.
He licked his paw, around where the shackle had rubbed against his fur. He no longer wore the chain net and hadn’t for a while. Just the shackles that chained him inside the stall, which seemed much more humane.
“You aren’t so bad,” she told him.
He gave her a look that seemed to say, Yes, I am.
She laughed, but the laugh broke and she felt tears on her cheeks. “You just want to run free. Like I do.” Tentatively, she reached toward him and touched his mane. He didn’t flinch. She stroked the metallic spikes. They were cool and smooth beneath her fingers. “Let me get you more water.”
She stepped out of his stall and halted. “Celin!”
Her—Raia’s mind recoiled at calling him her “fiancé”—he stood before her, filling the stable. He always seemed overlarge to her, even though she knew he was no larger than her father. He loomed when he stood, and his broad shoulders dominated the corridor between stalls. She knew she was supposed to think he was handsome—certainly there had to be something about him that had enticed his prior wife. Or maybe her family had liked his fortune too. A nice purse to go with nice hair, nice cheekbones, and an easy smile. He was smiling at her now, as if he could charm her.
“You’re here!” she yelped, and then wanted to smack herself for saying something so obvious and so unhelpful. What she should say was Get out or Leave me alone. Or she should scream and hope that Trainer Verlas came running.
He held out his hands, palms toward her. “Don’t be alarmed, Raia.”
She backed up against the stall door. “Why are you here?”
“For you.” He took a step toward her. “I’m here to offer you your dream future. I’m here to save you!”
She inched along the door, until her toes touched the hay of the lion’s stall. Save me? I don’t need saving! “I found my own future, thanks. You didn’t have to come all this way—”
“Your parents told me you were deliriously happy at our engagement. Those were their exact words, ‘deliriously happy,’ because after the augurs dismissed you, you had no future, and I represent a new future!”
Raia’s mouth felt dry, and her palms were slick with sweat. “I’m sorry this isn’t what you want to hear, but I don’t want to marry you.” In fact, she’d climbed out a window and fled into the night to avoid marrying him. You’d think he’d get the hint.
“You say that, but I hear your fear talking.”
Yes, you do. That was absolutely right. She was so full of fear that she felt her muscles shaking. She inched sideways into the stall with her lion. “Of course I’m afraid! I ran, and you chased. If you cared at all about my happiness, you would have let me go.”
“Raia, my dear, sweet Raia.” His voice was patient, soothing, as if she were a skittish wild animal. “You’ve heard hateful rumors about me, spread by hateful people, who want me to be miserable. And that’s why you weren’t thinking clearly when you fled!”
“You don’t know what I was thinking.” Her fear was turning into anger now. He had no right to call her “my” anything. She wished she could command him as if he were a kehok. She’d make him run into the desert and never return. Leave me alone! she thought.
“Your parents do! They know you better than anyone, and they were worried—”
“They don’t know me at all,” Raia said. “And neither do you.”
“Ah, but I do.” He sounded almost apologetic. Reaching into his tunic, he pulled out a wad of paper. “Here is the record of your birth. Your parents splurged for an augur reading, you know. According to this, you were a goat in a prior life. That accounts for your stubbornness.”
She shivered. Where had he gotten that?
“And here is the record of your admittance into the temple for training, the report from the augurs who originally identified you. Your parents bequeathed me all your records and the reports from your regular readings, along with the bills they paid for your training.”
Raia began to shake. It was suddenly hard to suck in air. All of that . . . it was private. It was supposed to be sealed by her parents, to remain in their possession until their deaths. “You shouldn’t have that.”
“Your parents have handed full responsibility for you over to me.” Celin was smiling again, and it wasn’t anything she could have called charming. In fact, it made her want to scream, if only she could get enough air into her lungs. He pulled out another paper. “Your parents and I are all concerned for your happiness.”
She stared at the paper, a formal declaration that she was unfit to make decisions about her future. They’d used her augur readings, combined with her failure at training and the fact that she’d run away, to declare her incapable of rational decisions.
By her parents’ decree, Celin was now her guardian.
In effect, if these papers were legal, he owned her. She was shaking so hard now that she felt like vomiting. Of all the possible scenarios, she’d never imagined that her parents would take things this far, or that they’d find a man willing to assist them.
This can’t be happening, she thought. She tried to see if the papers had an official augur stamp, but Celin was already tucking them back into his pocket. If she challenged it . . . But that would require gold she didn’t have.
Behind her, the black lion began to growl.
“You see, for your own good, you’re mine,” Celin said. “And once we’re married, I will help you under
stand that.” He flashed another charming-yet-terrifying smile.
“I don’t want—”
All of a sudden, the kehoks screamed.
Raia spun around. Why—
And then the sound cut off.
The black lion was standing, silent, quivering. She quickly examined him, careful to keep her distance from his claws and teeth. “What happened? Are you all right?”
Lunging forward into the stall, Celin grabbed her arm. “Raia, come out of there. You’re not safe.”
“Let go of me!” Forgetting the kehok, she pulled away from Celin and stumbled back against the black lion. She felt his hot breath against her neck and froze. He wasn’t muzzled, and his chains were loose.
Celin froze too. “Just move slowly. A step toward me.”
Facing the black lion, Raia said, “You won’t hurt me.” She put as much force of will as she could into it, which wasn’t easy while her insides were screaming in panic. She knew she was too close to him and she couldn’t trust herself to focus properly with Celin here, filling her with so much fear. She glanced back at him.
“Of course I won’t hurt you,” Celin said soothingly. “So long as you listen to me, I will keep you safe and happy.” He took a step forward. He was still reaching his hand toward her. He filled the only exit from the stall. “Stay calm. Deep breath.”
She obeyed, taking a deep breath, settling her thoughts. But not for his sake.
As she steadied herself, she slipped into her inner sight, as she’d been trained. She’d never been able to see the future or past of a soul, but she could manage a few wavering shapes that revealed its present state. She thought she saw Celin’s aura: spiked, layered with shadows. “Tell me what happened to your last wife,” Raia said.
He opened his mouth to speak.
“If you lie, I’ll know. I may have failed to become an augur, but I have been trained. I’ll see in your aura if you try to lie.” She wasn’t certain that was true, but he didn’t know that.
“It’s illegal to read someone without their consent.” Celin frowned at her.
The aura wavered. It was difficult to stay focused when her heart was fluttering in her chest. “It’s illegal to declare someone incompetent when they’re not too. What happened to your wife?”
Race the Sands Page 18
